Dean's Reintroduction to Hunting
by Bunnybabi
Summary: This was my spin on season six before it started. Dean's not sure if he likes the 'new' Sam's approach to things...  Sam/OFC, Dean/tucking in his shirt.


**Hey loverlies!****  
First of all, I want to say thanks to anyone who has actually added me to their  
Favorite Authors/Subscribed Authors list despite the fact that I'm absolutely  
terrible at actually updating my stories. I know it's been... FOREVER since I  
updated any of them and I'm so, _so_ sorry to anyone who has been waiting.**

**Second, I guess I should explain this, yeah? I'm only explaining this before-  
hand because it has SPOILERS for the SIXTH SEASON of SUPERNATURAL.  
So if you're a spoiler-phobe then this so isn't the story you want to read.**

**It's been a year since Sam jumped into the hole and now he's back all of the  
sudden and this takes place a WEEK after Dean took to the road again with  
him. It's basically Dean getting used to the new "type" of Sam. Jared said  
in an interview that Sam was going to be like Season 1!Dean and vise versa  
so naturally, I was inspired to write this up.**

**This is my FIRST attempt at writing a SUPERNATURAL fic even though I dearly  
love the show, so Concrit is definitely encouraged. I don't want to see reviews  
about how out of character they're acting because, uh yeah, I already explained  
that. Also, I only slept a total of three hours because of this story and no one I know  
was awake to beta it at the time it was published so if there are an mistakes, I  
apologize in advance.**

**Alright, so I think I'm done explaining... so without further ado, please enjoy!  
**

* * *

It had been a week.

A week since Sam had miraculously turned up alive and very much his brother. A week since Sam and told him that he needed his help on a hunt. A week since Dean had kissed Lisa, hugged her and Ben and told them that he'd be back soon and hoped to God that he meant it. A week since his life had changed _yet again _and he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it. A week since he began hunting again.

Sure, he had been living the "apple pie life" that he had always longed for; a steady girl, a kid, a white picket fence (though technically it was a hedge, but since when did he care about details when it came to analogies?) and a regular 9-5 job with co-workers who didn't try to kill each other every now and then.

It was a stable life. The one he had wanted but knew he could never have.

And now that he did have it, he was so friggin' tired of it he could scream.

He loved Lisa and Ben, he did, but _construction_? He was liable to bury himself in cement soon if he didn't get out.

And now that he had, things felt... right.

Being on the road with Sam again, hunting monsters, staying at shady motels and cleaning firearms felt so strangely normal to him. What he wasn't used to however, was Sam. His brother was a new man it seemed. Sam was definitely a lot... lighter about the job than he had been before. That werewolf they had killed last week proved it too.

The Sammy he remembered would have tried something for the poor kid, tried to help him or something. Because that's what Sammy did, he cared, he was sentimental and all that crap.

But no, not this Sam. This Sam, the Sam that had been to hell and back and had been hunting for God knows how long without him, he was different. Once they had figured out who was changing, they found him, took care of the situation and were out of there before the kid's death had even made the obits. And it was disconcerting for Dean to see his brother acting that way. Because that wasn't how Sammy was. Or at least it wasn't how he used to be. Now it was Dean who was taking the moral high ground here. He had told Sam that they could help the kid, maybe try to show him how he could live normally until his special time of the month and then find a way to contain himself at night. The kid wasn't even nineteen yet and it wasn't his fault he was a werewolf. But no, Sam had been very rational about his reasons for killing the kid, so logical that Dean had actually gotten frustrated with him over it because he knew his brother was right. The kid was a werewolf, he was hurting people, he had to go.

And it had been three days since they left that town and now they were in South Carolina, looking into the mysterious death of a local teacher.

After a trip to the morgue and a change of wardrobe from their FBI monkey suits, the two of them sat in booth at the local mom and pop diner, Kate's Plates, waiting for their waitress and discussing the 'case'. Sam was on his laptop, typing away on some search engine and Dean was left to look around at the other customers. At the counter sat a group of men with work boots and sweaty t-shirts on. He could tell just from the look of them that they were construction workers. A week ago, he had been just like them...

"...urns out that the house that Ms. Vickson died in has a pretty morbid past... Dean."

Sam's voice pushed Dean out of his thoughts and he turned to look at his brother. "Wha?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "You have the attention span of a two year old, you know that right?"

Dean glowered, "I was looking for the waitress, I'm friggin' hungry! And besides, all you were doing was typing; how was I supposed to know when you'd start talking? It's not like that thing dings when you've found something."

"Yeah, well, I did. The house our victim died in is really old. I'm talking Pre-Civil War old. And it's definitely had it's fair share of violent deaths. Check this out," Sam turned the laptop around and pushed it toward him, allowing Dean to see the four windows open on the screen.

He couldn't help but let out a small laugh, "Dude, you got Windows 7? Seriously?"

"Shut up and read."

Dean chuckled but did as he was told and then it was Sam who was left to look around the diner. He ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, his mind straying to why exactly the waitress was taking so long to show up.

In the meantime, however, he did get to spend more time with Dean, doing what they did and getting Dean back onto the bicycle. The bicycle, of course, being their job. Their life. That's what he was essentially doing anyway.

Sam's eyes skimmed over the lunch crowd of the diner, taking in the rowdy men at the counter and the group of older women at the other side of the diner. The three business men who were grinning and talking with one another over their salads. The couple three tables away from them who were playing footsie. He didn't even think people played footsie anymore.

And then there was the girl coming toward them with an apron on. She was busy pulling a notepad from said apron as she walked, so she didn't notice his eyes on her. And how they stayed on her. The side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk and he nudged Dean, "Waitress is coming."

"Uh huh." Dean acknowledged without looking up from the article he was reading. He obviously hadn't noticed the change in his brother's voice, how the tone had gone from serious to playful in a short amount of time. He didn't notice either, that Sam's posture in his seat had changed and he seemed to look much more relaxed now.

The second the waitress looked up from pulling her stubborn pad out of the apron pocket Sam's dimples and smile were the first thing she saw. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, smiling back warmly. She was very inviting, as a waitress should be. And, really, too cute for her own good. She had wide brown eyes and a sweet smile, it was almost infectious. She also had legs for days and a very nice figure under that pink uniform of hers.

"Hi! I'm so sorry about the wait-"

"It's fine, really," Sam said quickly, flashing her another smile, "We had things to go over and it gave us more time to look over the menu. Besides, it was worth the wait." Sam's smile hitched up a bit as he locked eyes with her.

Dean looked up from the laptop, raising an eyebrow at his brother and looking up at the waitress. And then back at his brother. He recognized the look on Sam's face, because he had mirrored that same look many a time when talking to an attractive waitress. _What the hell?_ He thought, his brow furrowing. Not that he wasn't happy that Sammy was finally getting some, but waitresses? That was _his_ area of expertise.

Well... It used to be. Now that he was with Lisa, he wasn't going to ruin what he had because a cute chick in an apron made eyes at him. No, he had a responsibility not only to Lisa, but to Ben. He had to set a good example for the kid.

Sam, however, did not.

The waitress laughed breathlessly at Sam's comment, her cheeks growing warm, "I'm glad you weren't inconvenienced then... I'm Crystal, by the way."

"I'm Sam, and that is my trusty sidekick, Billy Nugent." He nodded toward Dean. Dean gave Sam a pure "WTF?" face as Crystal giggled. He wasn't expecting that.

"Alright Sam and... Billy, what can I get you to start off?" She asked, getting ready to write on her small pad.

"I'll take a Bacon Cheeseburger and a large Coke. And it's _Dean_, by the way." Dean piped up, ordering before Sam could even open his mouth. Sam snickered at the last sentence. Dean glared at him.

Crystal scribbled down Dean's order, still smiling and looked over her pad at Sam, oblivious to Dean's death glare that was also aimed in that direction.

"I'll have the Turkey Club and a Coke too," He ignored his brother's glare and watched Crystal jot down his order, smiling at her again when she finished, "Thanks, Crystal."

She nodded, "It is my job," She chuckled, pocketing the pad and pencil. "I'll be back with your drinks." With that, she turned on her heel, her brown hair whipping around her shoulders and her hips swaying as she walked away. Dean's eyes followed for for a few moments before he turned back to his brother and knew he hadn't been the only one watching her leave.

And now that the chick was gone, Dean could openly express his discomfort in this situation. "Dude, _what the hell?_"

Sam turned to Dean with a smirk on his face and it didn't fall even at the sight of his brother's perplexed expression, "What?"

"Billy Nugent? What kind of cover name is that?"

"It's not a cover name." Sam laughed, clearly finding this whole situation at hell of a lot more amusing than Dean did, "It was just a joke."

"A joke. _Right_."

"Dean, come on, lighten up a bit, man. I mean, with what we do, we're allowed to have fun every once in a while."

Dean shifted in his seat, pulling slightly at his tucked in shirt and closing the laptop, "Yeah, whatever. But, what was that stuff with the waitress, huh? Since when did you start doing that?"

Sam raised his eyebrows, "Since about five months ago. I was in Nevada and-"

"That's all I need to know, I don't need to start thinking about Sam-Sex, that's going to make me upchuck my breakfast burrito."

Sam looked away from his brother, towards the counter just as Crystal was stepping back through it with their drinks in hand, "She's cute though, isn't she?"

Dean followed Sam's gaze, smiling at Crystal as her eyes flicked between the both of them, "Yeah. She is." If he was single and fancy-free.

"Here are your drinks." Crystal said, placing cups in front of both brothers respectively and quickly pulling straws from her apron pocket. Sam reached out for his while Dean let her place his on the table. Watching Sam actually flirt with a girl was both disturbing and adorable at the same time.

Disturbing because with every suggestive grin and the way they were looking at each other, Dean -who was a very visual person- would start getting mental pictures he shouldn't be getting. The description that Sam had given of him and Ruby doing it way back when that hell bitch had been alive was bad enough, but now he was watching this stuff unfold before his eyes? Not cool.

However, it was adorable at the same time because he could see some of his own techniques in use. It turns out that Sammy had been paying attention after all.

After Crystal left again -this time with pink cheeks and an extra skip in her step- Dean watched Sam sip his drink before speaking again, "Nice move with touching her hand, it's nice to see I actually taught you something when it comes to the ladies."

Sam gave him a skeptical look, "Dude, that was all me right there. I _did_ get my own dates before, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, but waitresses- there's _definitely_ some of my influence in that. Remember that stubborn one from Tallahassee?"

"Oh _God_, don't remind me." Sam threw his head back in laughter.

"That's a testament to how influential I've been to this phase of yours." Dean continued, pointing at his brother almost accusingly before drinking some of his Coke.

Sam shook his head, still laughing, "It's not a phase Dean. Or, maybe it is, I don't know. It's just something I do now, you know? I've finally just accepted all this and now I'm just... rolling with the punches."

"Rolling with the punches? Huh."

"What?" Sam raised an eyebrow, "You don't approve?"

"I told you before, I don't think you _need_ my approval for anything. It sure as hell freaks me out though."

* * *

The next morning Dean woke up to the sound of Sam shutting the door to their motel room, coffee and donuts in hand and a goofy grin plastered to his face.

Dean groaned and turned over in bed, "What time is it?"

"Almost nine." Sam replied, putting the donut box and the coffee cups on the table.

Dean groaned again, "At least it's not five thirty this time... When did you get back in anyway? I was up 'til four."

Sam turned toward him, shrugging off his jacket casually, "Now." He grabbed the coffee cups and went to sit on his bed, placing Dean's coffee cup on the nightstand in-between the two beds.

_"Now?" _

"Yep." Sam sipped is coffee, "Also, Crystal happens to be a local history buff-"

"What a coinkidink..." Dean mumbled sarcastically.

"And she was very... forth-coming when it came to stuff about that house-"

"Yeah, and from the look on your face, that wasn't the only thing she was _forth-coming _with. I didn't peg her as the type to hop in bed on the first date."

"She wasn't," Sam confirmed, before grinning again, "Until last night."

"I would congratulate you if the image of you having sex wasn't so repulsive to me... And if I hadn't stayed up watching crap TV while waiting for your sorry ass."

Sam shook his head and sipped his coffee before getting up and heading toward the bathroom. "Get up Dean, we've got to go investigate that house today and I'd like to do it before lunch starts around here."

_"I'm sure you would." _Dean yelled groggily after the door shut between them. He turned over, covering himself with the blanket completely and closed his eyes again, grumbling to himself. "... Can't _believe_ this crap..."

It had been a week. And so began the eighth day of Dean's reintroduction into hunting.

* * *

**So, there it is! I hope you enjoyed it! Now, I'm off to get some sleep because I  
am just falling asleep at the keyboard as I'm typing this. R & R!**


End file.
